


Each Other

by jscribbles



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Implied Child Abuse, No Wincest, dean!crying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-22
Updated: 2012-04-22
Packaged: 2017-11-04 02:38:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/388768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jscribbles/pseuds/jscribbles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam hasn't been there for Dean in a while. Sam didn't think he needed to be there. But when Castiel and Dean's relationship hits a major bump, Sam realizes his brother has needed someone to be there for him for a while. (Not Wincest.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Each Other

**Author's Note:**

> Implied child abuse. Not graphic at all, though.

_“He’s gone.” whispered Dean so quietly that Sam would’ve missed it even in the heavy silence. Sam stood in the doorway to the bathroom, looking down at the towel that he wrung in his hangs, struggling to find words to comfort his brother._

_The silence was suffocating._

Normally when Castiel and Dean fought, Sam stayed as far away as possible, going to the library or buying a whole other room entirely to stay for the night. But he hadn’t been around this time. He had walked into the motel late to find Dean lying in the dark, quiet and asleep, no Castiel in sight. Not a trench coat thrown over a chair or worn leather shoes left askew by the doorway. There was just silence and darkness, accompanied by a stillness that was more telling than it was concealing. 

Sam had entered the hotel room as quietly as possible, walking into the bathroom and trying to change in silence as to not wake up his brother. He brushed his teeth and washed his face, managing to do so in darkness and as silently as possible. But as he began drying his face with a towel, Sam had to pause, straining his ears to listen for a noise he thought he‘d heard. Silence hung heavy in the air again for a few seconds, before he heard a noise again. 

Sam crept out of the washroom, holding the towel firmly in his grip, his feet light as he struggled to hide his presence. He stopped at the doorway, his heart squeezing at the sound of his brother sniffing wetly and exhaling shakily. 

Dean was crying. Sam didn’t hear those noises often, but he could recognize them perfectly when he did. He almost turned around, tempted to close the door and let his brother have a moment to himself, but he stopped this time. Sure, ‘no chick flick moments’ was a rule the brothers lived by, but something about this moment made Sam turn around and lean on the door frame, speaking quietly to his brother in the darkness.

“What‘s wrong?”

Even in the darkness, Sam could see his brother’s shoulders tense up and the quiet sounds he’d heard moments before stopped abruptly.

As if his voice was muffled by a pillow, Dean said, “Nothing, Sammy. Go to sleep.”

Sam was sent back for a moment to memories from their childhood, when John had knocked Dean around so badly for letting Sam get hurt during a hunt that not even his stronger, older brother could hold it together anymore. He remembered those nights - those late nights when Sam couldn’t get to sleep because he could hear Dean trying to fight down tiny sobs by smothering them into his pillow. He remembered those horrible nights when guilt had eaten through his heart and caused him to lay there, froze and pretending to sleep because he knew that if Dean knew he was awake, he’d break even further. He knew Dean didn’t like it when Sammy saw him weak. That wasn’t what big brothers were for. Big brothers didn’t cry or feel sad. Big brothers protected and comforted.

Sam blinked, bringing himself to the present. He stood at the door and looked down at the towel in his hands, wringing it tightening in his fists, twisting and curling it around his fingers.

“It’s Castiel, isn’t it?” Sam asked quietly, his voice steady but also soft.

The silence dragged on. Sam didn’t budge and neither did Dean, his shoulders still motionless and stiff in the moonlight. Then, after what felt like half an hour, Dean visibly curled more into himself. Another wet sniffle and a shaking, heavy breath trembled past his lips.

“He’s gone.” And with two words, his brother broke. Sam looked up, seeing the shirt on his brother’s back stretched as he wrapped his arms around himself tighter, and his legs pulled up, closer to his chest. Sam didn’t wait to see what happened next. He wasn’t a child anymore. He didn’t need his brother to protect him. Maybe, for a change, he’d be the big brother. 

Sam crossed the room and crawled across the bed, laying behind Dean and wrapping his arms around him so tightly he might’ve been hurting him.

He could have said something, but it was unnecessary. Suddenly, small hiccups turned into shaking gasps and quiet crying. Sam hugged his brother more tightly, resting his chin on top of Dean’s short, soft hair. 

“He’ll be back. He always comes back.” Sam reassured in the dark, his voice sounding confident though inside his heart he hesitated.

It had never been this bad. Dean had never broken down. He’d been angry, sure. Sam knew when Cas and Dean fought because either one of them was either very quiet or very angry. Castiel would fly off and Dean would break something then stomp around, but he had never broken down. The saddest he got was when he would lay down and go to sleep early. Sam had never seen him tear up or even _look_ depressed when it came to Castiel. Though maybe he hadn’t been paying much attention…

“Not this time,” Dean whispered, his voice shaking so hard Sam had to stop to think about what he’d say to make sure he’d heard it right. “He’s not coming back this time… I said stupid shit, Sammy. I said stupid, hurtful shit… Sam. _Sam_ , I‘m gonna lose him. I can’t lose him…”

Sam curled in closer to his brother, holding him tightly. He hadn’t been this close to Dean in years… more than a decade. He hadn’t huddled up with his brother since he was a kid, since they used to travel together with their dad. Then again, he hadn’t thought he had to huddle up with his brother. He’d figured that shit was for little kids. But seeing his brother broken and curled up, trying to hold down tears, alone in the dark of a dirty motel bed with his own dark thoughts and torrid emotions… he couldn’t just ignore that. He hadn’t seen Dean like that since they were little. Though maybe… maybe he hadn’t been looking hard enough. Maybe Dean had been like this the entire time. Maybe this Dean had never gone away.

A fierce wave of protectiveness twisted inside of Sam, swirling and crashing inside of his chest, wrapping around his heart. He hated this. He hated that Dean was so scared of losing Castiel that he had needed to lie in a bed alone and cry. 

“Shut up. Shut up, you’re being so stupid… Castiel loves you,” When Dean laughed darkly, Sam shook him, whispering fiercely, “He loves you, you stupid fuck. You could stab him in the chest and he‘d still come crawling back.”

There was a silence, then Dean said quietly, “I have.”

“What?” Sam asked, puzzled. He raised his head from the pillow to stare at the back of his brother’s head.

He could hear the small smile in Dean’s thick, hoarse voice when he whispered, “Stabbed him in the chest.”

Sam laughed and to his surprise, Dean laughed too a second later, his shoulders shaking against Sam’s chest and under his arms. He felt a hand come up and settle on his wrist. Sam smiled and snuggled closer to his brother. The two brothers laughed quietly for a couple of minutes, as one laugh faded, the other started up, setting off a chain of contagious laughter. When it died down, the tension was greatly lifted from the air.

Misreading the mood, Sam repeated reassuringly, “Dude, he’ll be back.”

That killed the moment, because after a silence that draped so heavily over them he could almost feel the pressure of it on his side, he felt thick hot tears slid down over his wrist, dripping onto the off-white cloth underneath them. The thought that his brother was silently crying again created a pain so palpable that he felt his chest constrict and his own eyes start to sting. 

The two brothers lay there in silence. For hours they lay there, one boy’s arm draped over the other and another’s hand wrapped around a thin wrist. They did not sleep - either of them. But at least even in pain, in memories, in heartache, and in the darkness of a silent hotel room, they had each other.


End file.
